


Top V-Day Date

by sunshineflying



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 08:25:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3349988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshineflying/pseuds/sunshineflying
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall and Harry are both alone in Australia after their concert, and they've got no plans for Valentine's Day. They'd braced themselves to go it alone, but a challenge turns into the best Valentine's Day date that either guy has ever had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Top V-Day Date

**Author's Note:**

  * For [storuns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/storuns/gifts).



> Written for the Niall/Harry Valentine's Day fic exchange. Thanks for reading!

“Another lonely Valentine’s Day… let’s go.”

Harry sighs and looks up at his reflection. They’re standing in the green room after an exhilarating show, but his high’s worn off faster than usual. Most of the time the adrenaline kept him going for a couple hours, but that apparently wasn’t going to do the trick.

Louis, Liam, and Zayn were all hopping around, chattering on about their girlfriends and the fact that they had plans after the show. Sophia and Eleanor were in town, and Zayn had a call planned with his fiancée Perrie that required him having a hotel room all to himself.

Niall was across the room, sipping from a bottle of water and hopping from foot to foot. “Is any of that making it to your mouth?” Harry asks, bemused.

He’s watching Niall through the mirror as he unbuttons his already half-opened shirt, and he spins on his heel to face Niall properly. Niall lowers the water bottle and laughs as he says, “Dunno, who’s asking?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Harry laughs. “It’s on your shirt, I think I’ve got my answer.”

He points to Niall’s shirt, which is splattered with water. “Got any plans tonight?” Niall asks, deciding that changing the subject would be an easier route to take.

“Ni, it’s Valentine’s Day, do you _think_ I have plans?” Harry replies.

He’s got a cocky look on his face, that look of total amusement and a glint in his eye that says he thinks he’s been quite clever. Niall chuckles and shakes his head. “We should go back to my hotel room,” Harry suggests. “I’ve gotten myself a suite. I was hoping I’d be able to find someone to spend the day with, but…”

“For the record, I make a fantastic Valentine’s date,” Niall says as he points at Harry with amusement in his eyes.

Harry bursts out with a new wave of laughter and says, “Yeah? I dunno, you’ve got some pretty high standards to live up to.”

“Is that a challenge?” Niall asks.

Somewhere in the midst of all the joking around they became the only two left in the green room. The tone of the room changes as Harry contemplates how he should answer. Niall’s watching him and he’s pretty sure he was joking, but he can’t be totally sure that it wasn’t something else. After a long pause, Harry smirks and says, “Sure. Yeah. It’s a challenge. You and me… Valentine’s Day. It’s a date.”

“You’re doing well already, seeing as we’re in Australia,” Niall laughs. “How many other Irishmen get to go spend Valentine’s Day in a foreign country?”

Harry nudges him out the door and says, “Oh shut it. Hotel. _Now_.”

“What? No dinner first?” Niall teases.

But Harry can’t help but wonder if maybe this pretending is something else. He’s guilty on more than one count of finding his band mates well fit, and having the opportunity to spend Valentine’s Day with one of them was an incredibly tempting offer. Harry’s had especially sinful thoughts about Niall lately; it’s something about his muscles that really drives Harry insane.

Flying back to reality as they hear the screams of fans outside as they walk to the car, he focuses on the task at hand – evading the crowds long enough to get into the car and get away.

Once they’re settled into their seats, Harry says, “Room service is all the dinner you’re going to get. Do you know what kinds of rumors would fly if we went out to a restaurant tonight?”

“Fuck the rumors,” Niall laughs.

Harry wishes he could be so carefree, and somewhere deep down Niall knows he’s being foolish, but sometimes it feels good to just curse at what they can’t control.

The hotel is nice – one of the nicest Niall remembers being in. Harry’s gotten himself a suite at the top of the hotel, something overlooking the city, and as soon as they walk in Niall can’t stop looking around and staring. It’s a suite, something with a separate bedroom and bathroom and a big couch facing a huge big screen TV. There are windows but Harry’s already planning to pull the shades in the morning so nobody can see them; he likes privacy, and they can’t just “fuck the rumors” if words gets out.

Harry pushes Niall’s shoulder playfully as he watches him stare out the windows. Niall turns and asks, “What’d you do that for?”

“Stop staring. I’m hungry, let’s call room service,” Harry says as he wanders to the desk.

There’s a menu in the binder, and he opens to the page as Niall laughs and says, “You sound like me.”

He tries to tug the menu away from Harry, who tries to pull it back, and it turns into a game of tug of war. Even after the menu falls flat on the floor, they’re still tugging, only now it’s at each other. Their laughter slowly begins to cease as Niall wrestles Harry onto the bed. When he does that, Harry just stares up at him, breathless.

Niall hadn’t even realized how they were going to end up until he was kneeling over Harry, straddling him, pinning him down by the wrists. Harry’s smiling up at him but his eyes have grown dark. Their eyes lock and Niall’s smile fades because they’re close – _really_ close – and he doesn’t think he could move from this place even if he wanted to.

Harry doesn’t fight his grip on his wrists; in fact, he seems to love the position he’s in, pinned down against the plush blankets. Niall leans in, and for a moment Harry feels like their lips are going to meet. He can feel Niall’s breath against his lips and the way he’s hesitating just a little bit, like he’s not sure if he should go this route or not.

The hesitation is there, and the sound of Niall’s stomach growling cuts everything off before anything can happen. Harry laughs though, and that makes Niall feel like it’s okay.

Harry orders them both steak dinners from the room service menu while Niall raids the mini fridge. He pulls out a pint for each of them, something with fancy, curly writing on the bottle that gives off the impression it’s an incredibly expensive beer. Niall takes a sip and thinks wistfully to himself that it’s good, but it’s not as good as Irish beer.

But when Harry tries it, he seems to like it, so that makes Niall like it a little bit more.

Their food comes sometime between Niall pulling off his shirt and switching on the TV, and Harry joins him with their carts of food as they watch an Australian show they’ve never heard of before. It’s funny, a sitcom with the usual mundane but laughable humor, and when they’ve finished eating Harry asks, “So? Was the dinner up to par?”

“Sure, but everyone knows what happens on Valentine’s Day,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

Harry looks confused. He’s pretty sure that dinner is what everyone does, and he can’t possibly imagine that Niall would mean anything else but that… would he?

“You know… the reason why there are so many November babies,” Niall prompts, hoping to job Harry’s memory to get him to realize what he’s referring to.

And he does, and he flushes, and Niall briefly wonders if maybe he didn’t cross a line. But then Harry’s leaning across the couch and kissing Niall and this sure doesn’t feel like some pretend “dare” kiss. He can _feel_ that he means it.

When their lips meet, Niall’s eyes close on instinct, and he’s leaning back against the arm of the couch as Harry covers him completely. There’s a clatter of silverware as their trays are jostled but Niall doesn’t care because Harry is on top of him and kissing him and he’s always sort of wondered if Harry was at good as kissing as he thought – and he’s thought about it a lot.

Their lips seem to line up, like puzzle pieces almost, Harry’s lips settling just above Niall’s. It’s serious and heated, Harry’s tongue gliding over Niall’s lower lip. He seems so sure of what he wants, and Niall’s hands slide around his waist as he hopes they’re left wanting the same thing.

Apparently they are, because Harry’s unbuttoned shirt ends up on the floor next to them. Niall clears his throat as Harry’s leaning back, above him, so he could take off his shirt without hitting Niall in the face on accident. “Okay, so it’s not that I don’t love this because I totally do, but… maybe we should move to the bed? This couch is kind of small,” Niall says, hoping he’s not offending Harry.

Harry’s expression is calm and soft, and he smiles and nods as if Niall’s come up with the answer to the universe or something. The kissing has made Harry’s lips redder and Niall stares as he watches the way Harry licks them before his eyes dart down to look at his lips. He can feel the magnetism, the pure attraction between the two of them, and he realizes that he needed to be on that bed like, ten minutes ago, because Harry looks too good to not touch.

They clamber off the couch, all flying limbs and embarrassed laughs, and when they tumble down onto the bed Harry’s over Niall again but his jeans are around his knees. Niall’s not sure when that happened because Harry’s jeans are practically painted on but he’s not going to argue because that means they’re closer, and there’s more for him to touch.

Harry lets out a moan as their lips meet in a hasty kiss, and now suddenly everything is much more rushed than it was before. They know what they want and they know how to get it, and now nobody’s stomach or anything else can interrupt this. For that, Niall is grateful, because the way Harry is grinding down against him is really doing things to him. Things nobody has done for Niall in a while because well, that’s the reality of being a pop star.

The kiss breaks when Harry leans back, and Niall pouts until he realizes it’s because Harry’s kicking off his boots and jeans. He’s looking at Harry like he expects him to do the same thing and Niall catches on rather quickly, especially because he _wants_ to do the same thing. He wants Harry grinding down on top of him again with even fewer clothes between them, and he’s wanted it for longer than he’d care to admit.

That’s all forgotten as soon as Harry’s on top of him again, straddling Niall’s narrow hips and grinding against him. Both are growing harder in their boxers as their bodies move in a steady rhythm.

Niall reaches up, his fingers tangling in Harry’s long hair, and he pulls him down into another kiss. Harry’s hair tickles, falling around his face and nose and generally just getting in the way. It’s distracting but at least it’s not caught in their mouths.

But then Harry smiles and pulls away just a little for air and that’s when Niall decides it’s time to put those muscles to good use again – especially given how much Harry liked it earlier.

He rolls them easily on the large king sized bed, and Harry’s grinning at Niall with a glint in his eye that says he was waiting for Niall to cave in and roll them over.

As it turns out, Niall likes grinding down on Harry like this, likes seeing the way he splays his legs apart and seems to beg for something as simple as human contact. Niall’s cheeks are flushed hot and he can feel it, and Harry’s fingers slide over his cheeks as he uses his large, warm hands to pull Niall into a kiss. Niall likes this feeling, the way Harry’s hands hold him in place, grounding him in the moment so that nothing can distract him.

He’s got his thumbs tracing small circles on Niall’s cheekbones and his moans are tumbling into Niall’s mouth as they grind together. Only Niall’s moaning too and it’s a bit like they’re on stage singing, the way they’re both so in tune with each other.

Niall’s rhythm is steady and Harry cants his hips up, meeting every rock and thrust of Niall’s hips. That only makes things more intense but Harry still wants more – he _needs_ more.

Clumsy fingers make fast work of reaching under the waistband of Niall’s boxers and pushing them down. It barely works, but Niall gets the hint. He does his best to kick them off before he leans back to take off Harry’s.

They’re both hard now, and suddenly things slow a little when they realize they’re naked together in bed on Valentine’s Day. It’s certainly not anything they’d planned or expected but they’re also not protesting because it’s probably the best thing to happen to them since their success as a band. Only this is more personal, more heartfelt, and in turn that makes it so much more special.

Harry looks up at Niall, who’s watching him with wide, amazed eyes. “Are we really doing this?” Harry asks, because it feels too good to be true. It feels like something out of a dream.

Niall’s voice is breathy and labored as he nods and says, “Y-yeah. I mean, I want to. If… if you want to.”

“I want to,” Harry replies instantly, nodding as well.

It’s been a long time coming, though neither knows it. Their fleeting thoughts and attractions, all those “what ifs” come crashing to a halt and become an “it’s real” when their lips meet again and Harry realizes that this is what he was missing all those years.

Niall’s kisses, his touches – they’re what Harry’s been missing in his life, the stuff he couldn’t place or describe but knew that he needed all along. And Niall? He’s always known Harry was going to be the most important lad in the band to him (though he loves them all) and this explains so much.

They feel at ease as Harry reaches down between them with a trembling hand, lining up their cocks just right. Harry’s is longer but Niall’s is thicker, and Harry’s large hand has no problem wrapping around the both of them. Niall’s hands are sweaty but he wants to do this too, wants to be a part of it, so he drops a hand down to cover Harry’s so they can do it together.

Harry moans as their hands begin to stroke, Niall still thrusting gently to really drive Harry crazy.

They’re so far gone for each other even though they hadn’t felt such concrete things for each other until that morning, and it serves to make the whole thing even more special. Harry’s trembling and Niall’s moaning, and neither of them can fully focus on the task at hand.

Niall’s thrusts do more than their hands, but being close and sharing such an intimate moment is something that neither expected for that evening. It’s almost too much, and all the buildup and tension and the lack of anything sexual over the past few months means that neither of them will last very long.

Harry’s moans become more like whimpers and Niall knows he’s sweaty and probably a little bit gross but Harry still seems to want him, to like him, and that’s important to Niall. Harry loves him no matter what.

And sure, Harry’s always worried that he walks that line between masculine and feminine a bit too much for either gender, but Niall makes him feel like it’s normal, like it’s what makes him special. And Niall’s attentive, too. He knows what Harry needs, be it acceptance or in that particular moment, a brush of his thumb over the slit of his cock.

That’s got Harry spurting between them in seconds, and that one long, loud, sinful moan from Harry’s lips is all Niall needs to let go as well. Their hands stop, a bit sticky from come, but Harry needs attachment, he needs romance. Niall threads their fingers together and holds hands with Harry as he kneels over them.

It doesn’t last long, being as Niall’s knee is sore and he’s exhausted from what was probably the most mind-blowing orgasm he’s ever had.

Harry seems to think it’s okay, and he’s at least less sore so he opts to be the one to get up and fetch a flannel for them so they can wash up. He’s not fond of falling asleep while sticky, and he doesn’t figure Niall is, either.

Caringly – lovingly, even – he wipes them both up. Niall shudders when Harry brushes the cloth over his cock; he’s so oversensitive he can hardly stand it. Harry smiles and just says softly, “I know.”

They _get_ each other, and that’s something Niall doesn’t get to experience with many people. Harry either, and that’s part of what makes their relationship so special.

After they’ve been cleaned up, Niall reaches out for Harry and pulls him tight against his body, snuggling him to his chest. “That was nice,” he says softly.

Harry snorts. “Nice? All I get is a _nice_?”

“Shut up, you,” Niall laughs. “It was amazing, alright? Stellar. Magnificent. Bloody brilliant. Anything else?”

“You forgot marvelous,” Harry teases.

“Fine, _marvelous_ , too,” Niall indulges. There’s a pause before he asks, “So, was I a good Valentine’s date?”

Harry smirks and Niall can feel it because his lips have ended up against his chest as they’re cuddling there. Harry’s hair is warm and a little bit sticky and he knows the pause is torturing Niall but it’s fun – it’s their own kind of flirty. “Hmm,” Harry begins, teasing.

“Oh come on!” Niall laughs.

Harry snuggles a little closer, nuzzles his face a little more against Niall’s torso where he’s curled up like he’s half his usual size, and he just replies softly, through the darkness, “You were the best. And me?”

Niall’s quiet for a moment, enjoying the serenity of the room and their now-calm breaths before he says, “I’d say you’re the best, too. Top Valentine’s Day ever.”

 


End file.
